


Heaven's Glow

by lanri



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Episode: s08e23 Sacrifice, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Prompt Fic, celebratingsam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 15:29:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10789458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanri/pseuds/lanri
Summary: Prompt: luminescence for #celebratingsam





	Heaven's Glow

Dean was in front of him. Face alive with passion and concern.

But Sam couldn’t do it.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He said what he needed to finish the trials.

There was a roar in his ears, but he could still hear Dean shouting. Sam fell to the floor, forearms alight with the supernatural glow from whatever the trials were doing. From his fingertips, light began to creep along the ground, etching in enochian symbols. Sam tried to read them, but everything was blurring.

“Sammy!”

Sam dragged up his heavy head. Dean was fighting to get closer, reaching out like he could drag Sam away, but the growing circular design on the ground seemed to be acting like a barrier.

“Let me go,” Sam whispered. The pain was burning like hellfire. Sam had taken on the trials in the hopes of redemption, but deep in his heart he was afraid it wasn’t enough, and that at the end of it all, he would find himself caught by Lucifer once more.

“No!”

Dean sounded anguished. Sam hated to leave him, but Dean had been right before. He had done so much wrong . . . it was time to make it right.

Without warning, the pain flared bright in Sam’s chest. He may have cried out, but the roaring in his ears was too loud. He fell down. The symbols were disappearing from the ground slowly, fading like Sam was fading.

He had never imagined his death to be so . . . slow. Energy gradually left him. It was getting harder to breathe.

There were hands on him. Desperate, searching hands.

“Don’t leave me.” Dean’s voice was barely a whisper. “I can’t lose you again.”

Sam fixed his eyes on the church’s old ceiling. He prayed for forgiveness, and let the darkness overtake him. 

* * *

 

“How long has he been asleep now?”

Dean stared at his hands. “Two days.”

Kevin shifted a little. “So maybe the translation was wrong.”

“I don’t know.”

“He’s still alive, isn’t he?”

“Barely.”

“I’m sorry, Dean. But thank you for helping him finish. If the gates of hell hadn’t been shut . . .”

Dean shook his head. “Please go.”

“Sorry.” Kevin edged out of the room. Dean stared at Sam. He hadn’t had to take Sam to the hospital; pallor and general ill-appearance aside, there seemed to be nothing physically wrong with Sam. He just wouldn’t friggin’ wake up.

“C’mon, Sammy. You’ve made it this far,” Dean whispered.

Kevin poked his head through the door again, and Dean gave him a death glare. The kid visibly quailed.

“I, uh, I had an idea. Have you ever taken dreamroot before?”

Dean sighed. “Sam’s gonna kill me.” 

* * *

 

Sam blinked. “Dean?”

His brother seemed uncertain. “Sammy? Where are we?”

It was hard to frown for some reason. “I don’t know. I thought maybe the Catholics had it partly right and I’d ended up in limbo.”

“Why wouldn’t you end up in heaven?”

It was easier to smile than to frown. Though from Dean’s expression, his smile was probably a little crooked. “I thought I’d end up in hell, to be honest.”

Dean’s eyes became shuttered. “You thought you’d end up back in hell? Why on earth would you go through with the trials then?”

Sam shrugged. “It was the right thing to do.” He squinted at Dean. “What are you doing here? Did you die too?”

“You aren’t dead.”

“What?”

“You aren’t dead. You’re . . . asleep, sort of.”

Sam fell silent. He had lost track of time in the blank white place. Room to think, he’d thought. Turned out, that was literally.

“So I failed.” Dean shook his head. “Kevin was wrong, or maybe . . . maybe someone saved you. But hell’s gates are shut, forever. You did it.”

Relief swept over him, and Sam had to shut his eyes so that he wouldn’t see Dean. After so long alone, it was too overwhelming.

“Come back with me.”

Dean’s plea wasn’t unexpected.

“Dean . . .”

“Sammy.” When Sam opened his eyes, his brother was kneeling in front of him, hand outstretched. “Remember that light at the end of the tunnel?”

Sam turned his head away. “I meant for you. I never thought . . .”

“I was out of line. When I said those things, before you started the last trial.” Dean swallowed. “You have no idea how much I hate myself for bringing back all that history, things you weren’t to blame for, for the most part. Hell, I had my fingers in nearly all of them, and I still can’t let ‘em go.”

“It was fair,” Sam murmured. “I ruin everything I touch.”

Dean looked even more heartbroken. “Sammy. No. I don’t think that, okay? You . . . you’ve always been the better one, even when I liked to pretend it was the opposite. Please. Wake up.”

Sam closed his eyes. “Alright.”

* * *

Dean was waiting, heart in his throat. When Sam opened his eyes, it was like everything began to move again.

“Hey, about time,” he managed to rasp. “You okay?”

“Sore.” Sam winced, shifting. “How long?”

“You’ve been out for a couple days.” Dean leaned in, resting two fingers on Sam’s steady pulse. “Hurt anywhere else?”

Sam lifted his hands, and then froze.

“What?” Dean demanded.

“You don’t see them?”

Adrenaline shot through Dean’s body as he prepared for . . . whatever it was. “No, what do you see?”

“The enochian symbols. On my arms. They’re . . . glowing.”

Dean looked carefully over Sam’s arms, and then focused on his face. “Sammy, I don’t see anything.”

Sam was shaking. Dean swallowed, giving in to his big brother instincts and grasping Sam’s trembling hands. “Sam, we’ll figure this out. Ignore it for now, okay? Focus. For me.”

It was gratifying, to be trusted so much that he was instantly obeyed. Sam gripped Dean’s hands tightly, breathing slowly.

“W-what else is going on?”

“Not much. Just trying to get you better.”

Sam offered a half-hearted smile. “And after that?”

“Well, I was thinking some kind of Netflix marathon. Or maybe some sports games, or some horror movies we can make fun of. Some soup for you, greasy burgers if you’re up for it.”

It’d been forever since Dean had gotten a proper bitchface out of Sam. He had to stop himself from hugging Sam at the sight of it. “Dean. You know what I mean.”

“Hey.” Sam had stopped looking at him, so Dean reached out to grasp Sam’s jaw and get him to meet his gaze. “You managed to save the world. Again. Hell is closed, and we are taking a break. Capisce?”

Sam swallowed and nodded. “Okay.”

“Good. Now, I’m thinking you want that foley out, huh?”

Sam grimaced. “Did you have to bring that up?”

“You wanna keep it in, be my guest. I ain’t taking it out so that’s on you.”

He got a swat against his head for his comment. Dean grinned. “I’m gonna go work on that soup. You want anything else?”

“Some tea?” Sam looked up hopefully.

“Coming right up.”

Dean hesitated. Technically, near-death experiences allowed it. He drew Sam into a hug. The steady heartbeat against his own was everything he needed to keep going.

“Thank you for . . . coming back,” he whispered.

Sam shuddered, ducking his head into Dean’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for leaving.”

**Author's Note:**

> for the #celebratingsam event! went for the prompt luminescence. If I had more time and had been practicing my art more, I'd've drawn something to go with it, I could not get the visual picture of Sam with the glowing symbols out of my head.
> 
> To my steady followers, I'm not sure what big project will come next, but have this for now! :)


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